


Snow Fall

by DaisyFairy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Series 4 was Sherlock's dream, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: John visits Sherlock, things aren't good, but maybe Christmas can make it better.Written for theSherlock Challenge December 2017 prompt - Snow,and theHiatus Challenge December 2017 prompt - Christmas.





	Snow Fall

John bustles into Sherlock’s room and swiftly sheds his hat, scarf, gloves and coat.

“At least its always warm in here, its bloody freezing out there.”

He deposits his outerwear and bag onto a plastic chair in the corner and takes a seat in the armchair by Sherlock. He lets out a sigh as he sits and takes a moment to settle.

“Sorry it’s been a few days, flu season you know. They’re so desperate at the clinic I just couldn’t say no to a few more shifts.”

As expected Sherlock doesn’t reply.

“It’s coming up for a year you know. Almost Christmas again. Did you know your Mum invited me again? Of course this year she’s hoping not to be drugged. I think she’s looking forward to spoiling Rosie.”

John shifts in his seat and sighs again, “I’m just going to get a coffee, be right back.”

Sherlock barely moves a muscle, a few minutes pass and John reappears with a plastic cup in his hand.

“This stuff's vile, you’d have thought by now I’d have learnt to stop off at Starbucks on the way. Guess I’m just too eager to get here. Not sure why though, you’re an awful host.” He chuckles at his own joke and then smiles sadly at Sherlock, examining his impassive face.

“Your mum asked me what I want for Christmas, I didn’t know what to tell her. We both know what I really want and I’m sure if she could arrange that she’d have done it already.”

He leans forward and pushes hair back from Sherlock’s forehead, “You’re getting shaggy again. Don’t worry, after the mess they made last time I found your normal barber. I’ll get him to come and sort you out.”

His hand lingers in Sherlock’s hair and he purses his lips.

“I’m going to have to leave in a minute, I’m taking Rosie to see Father Christmas. I know, I know its a load of commercialised rubbish, and she’s too young, but I just, since Mary ran off, I want to do my best for her, you know?

I wish you could come, it'd be a disaster, we’d probably end up arresting one of the elves or something, but it would be amazing.”

John sits a few more minutes, drinking his coffee and regarding his friend carefully, then gathers his things and puts them on. He pauses in the doorway on his way out.

“I’ll come in tomorrow, ok? I’ll bring a paper, we can see what the police have been up to this week, yeah?”

Tears pickle his eyes as he takes in the tubes and monitors surrounding Sherlock’s unresponsive body. He manages to keep his tone light however as he calls out, “Bye then.” 

He hurries to the lift, he has been coping so well with these visits but it’s getting harder. The upcoming one year anniversary of Sherlock’s overdose making it worse having to see him just lying there unconscious. He offers up a silent prayer to God, Father Christmas or anyone else who might be listening, ‘Please let Sherlock wake up'.

\--==--

A few weeks later, just before midnight on Christmas Eve, John walks into Sherlock’s room with a gift wrapped in red and green striped paper. Once again he leaves his coat and scarf on the chair in the corner and approaches Sherlock’s bed.

“Hi, it’s just me. I know it’s late but I wanted to see you on Christmas and I need to leave early in the morning to get to your Mum's.”

He pats Sherlock’s shoulder before sitting down.

“Sorry for leaving you alone for most of Christmas, but then you never really cared about any of that did you?”

He fiddles awkwardly with the corner of the wrapping paper and licks his lips, “I got you something. Don’t worry, it’s not another James Bond film. Even unconscious I could feel you judging me when I watched that with you last month. Want to open it? Come on. No? Ok Lazy, guess I’ll have to do it then.”

John pulls the wrapping off, dropping it to the floor under his chair. “Here you go, a recording of that concert you went to see last year. I thought you might be getting bored of the same old CDs every day.”

He puts the CD in the player on the unit next to the bed and turns the volume on low. The room fills with the quiet strains of music and John allows himself a minute to just listen.

He goes to the window. The familiar view of London’s streets that he has seen a hundred times seems different tonight. His voice is strained as he whispers, “Please wake up. I miss you so much. Rosie's never even met you. I leave her to come here and sit with you four or five times a week and I don’t even know if you can hear me. I just thought, stupid really, I just thought being Christmas maybe there'd be some kind of miracle. There’s things I need to say and I can’t do it like this. I need you awake.”

As he watches a single snowflake drifts past the window, followed by another, and another until the sky is full of flakes glowing in the street lights. He can see it settling on the rooftops and trees, turning the world white, making it like new.

“Hey, its snowing! Snow on Christmas, some people would take that as a sign.”

John nearly falls to the floor when Sherlock's voice, rough from disuse, replies, “Those people would be idiots.”

John turns to look at Sherlock, he is pale and his hair is limp. He still has wires and tubes everywhere, but his eyes are open, alert and staring directly at John.

John gasps and scrambles to the bed, dropping to his knees to get closer and taking Sherlock’s hand in his own. “You’re awake! Oh God you’re awake.”

Sherlock smiles and rasps, “What do you have to tell me?”

“I love you. I love you so much.” John sobs with tears streaming down his face.

Sherlock’s eyes crinkle, “I love you too. Happy Christmas, John.”

As the church bells ring across the city, chiming in Christmas day, they share their first kiss. It’s slow and gentle. It’s a beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the angst, I hope the end makes up for it :-)
> 
> In my head for this fic everything in Series 4 was happening in Sherlock's head, taking details that he has heard John saying and warping them.
> 
> He heard John talking about the arrival of Rosie so she was there, he heard John say Mary had left so he dreamed that she left, then presumably John talked more about her being gone, maybe cried, and Sherlock dreamed she died.
> 
> Maybe Mycroft visited and annoyed Sherlock who dreamed of scaring him with clowns. Then finally John watched James Bond and Sherlock dreamed about a crazy sister, evil lairs on an island, and bombs.


End file.
